Liason
by CalloftheHaunted
Summary: Sometimes you have to dance with the enemy to get what you want, unfortunately neither Marik or Bakura know how to dance, but they DO know what their bodies want to do


Here's something random, a bit smutty and quite trashy. No lemons but some graphic-ish foreplay.  
Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! it belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. I do not make a profit from this story ¬_¬

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Bakura grimaced as the blade penetrated the skin and muscle of his left upper arm. He should have been in more pain, of this he was certain, but it wasn't entirely his body so he guessed that the pain wasn't entirely his either. That made sense in some sort of twisted way.

"Did it hurt?" Marik's smirk was evident in his voice.

"Just a touch." The clang the knife made as it hit the concrete of the alley floor attracted both of their attention. They stared at it for a few moments in silence. Marik's smirk had lessened slightly but still ghosted around his features, and Bakura's right hand was clamped around the wound to stem the bleeding. Red blood glistened in the half light and stood out harshly against the grey of their surroundings.

"So. That's it then." Marik finally said, he resisted the urge to say what he really wanted. The deal was sealed with Bakura's mild self mutilation but there was still the chance the thief wouldn't go through with what else he had planned, the other way he had intended to seal the deal. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it, and he was hoping he would come to that bridge pretty soon. Bakura was undeniably attractive, even the other personality with which he shared the body had some appeal though not as much as the personality standing in front of him now. Especially with him bleeding all over the place...

"Yes. I suppose it is." Bakura still stared at the bloody knife wondering what he'd just gotten himself into. Usually when he was entering a deal he would spend more time thinking it through, identifying every loop hole, making sure he always had a plan B, and a plan C, and a plan for when those failed. He would usually come up with his own conditions so that he would always win in some way or another, but this was so loose. He knew his 'partner' wasn't telling him everything, that he had something else in mind besides what was vocally agreed. And he was pretty sure he knew what it was, and it had nothing at all to do with Yugi Mutou, or the Sennen items, and more to do with the bed on the boat Marik had brought to Domino.

"Well, we have to make you look the part now, don't we?" Bakura looked up then.

"What? What do you mean 'Look the part'"?

"Well if I take you up to Yugi claiming that I found you all injured and pathetic," Bakura's eyes narrowed at pathetic, "and you're waltzing around looking completely sex- er healthy when you're supposed to have been attacked and bleeding out all over the place then he's not going to buy it."

"Hn. So what do you propose?" He regretted this question the second Marik smiled, an expression which set off a little alarm in the back of his mind. He hadn't missed the slip up and it confirmed what he had thought earlier. Marik had other plans for them while they waited for the right time to meet up with Yugi and his pathetic friends.

"Well, I think first we need to sort that wound out." He looked genuinely concerned at this point; a change in expression from the suggestive smirk that happened so fast Bakura hadn't blinked yet still missed it. "We don't need you passing out before your cue, do we?" The smile was back. "I suggest we go to my boat, and I'll patch you up a little, not too much mind, we still need you to look like you need help."

Bakura would have disagreed. Would have insisted on cleaning himself up somewhere far, far away from the boat, and the bed below deck, and the lusting Egyptian standing in front of him, but the blood loss was making him light headed and he was swaying slightly where he stood. Marik sauntered up to him and grabbed a hold of him in order to steer him in the direction of the docks. It was only a short walk, and by the time he got there he was glad to sit down and rest a bit. Part of him was glad that the stab wound was affecting him so well. He wouldn't have to play up to it too much. He was an exceptional actor but when in this kind of state he doubted he would have been able to make it convincing enough. The other part was cursing this human body, he wasn't at his full strength, he wouldn't be able to put up as much as a fight as he would have liked.

Marik lead him over to the single bed situated below deck of the speed boat on which he had arrived in Domino. The white sheets covered duck feather pillows and duvet, so the thief seemed to sink slightly when he sat down. Marik disappeared for a second before coming back clutching a white box bearing a red cross. Bakura pulled it towards himself and began rifling through it in search of bandages and other such necessary equipment to stop him dying of blood loss.

Marik sank down on the bed beside him, looking over his shoulder and smirking slightly at the close proximity though Bakura seemed oblivious.

"Don't you want to clean that up first?"

"No. It will look better if the blood seeps through, more effective anyway."

"It will get infected."

"That's okay," Bakura stuffed the end of the bandage in his mouth to anchor it so he could wind the rest around his arm, "The worse a condition I seem to be in, the better it is for us." He finished, voice slightly muffled around the bandage. He flinched when Marik's hand, which had been creeping along the covers close to his behind, settled on his shoulder and forced him to lean back as Marik himself leaned back against the wall.

"Let me help you with that." The Egyptian said gently, taking the end of the bandage out of Bakura's mouth and pulling it taught. Bakura hissed as it put pressure on the fresh wound but otherwise said nothing, he just carried on winding the bandage around his arm until all he had to do was tie the two ends together. He looked at the end he was holding. Then looked at the end Marik was holding, swallowing thickly when he realised he would need Marik to tie them for him, he couldn't do it one handed. And Marik knew this, which is why the smirk that made Bakura so uncomfortable was back.

"I'll do it." Marik stood up and then put one knee on the bed, between Bakura's legs, so he could reach properly. He looped the ends of the bandages around gently, forming the knot and then suddenly he pulled them so the bandage tightened and Bakura hissed. He took his chance then, leaning forward and crashing their lips together, using one hand to hold the thief's face still and prevent him pulling away, and using the other to hold his arm, not pressing on the wound but ready to should the thief try anything to get away.

And Bakura did try. He struggled at first, but then Marik's hand clamped over the hole in his arm. He made a noise in his throat which only seemed to urge the tanned Egyptian on. He let Marik force his tongue into his mouth and didn't try to fight again; he was still light headed from the blood loss.

Marik felt the thief give up and pushed him down onto his back on the bed, still plundering his mouth and running his hands down the pale body beneath his.

Bakura squeezed his eyes closed tight and let Marik have his way, let Marik push up his shirt and abandon his mouth in favour for the flesh on his stomach and chest. His breath was coming out in sharp short gasps, reacting to what the Egyptian was doing to him even if he didn't want to. He let out another hiss only this time it was from the assault on his throat which Marik had suddenly jumped to without his knowledge. His mind was beginning to lag, not a good sign.

Marik enjoyed the noises he was rewarded with when he used his mouth to explore the thief. He especially enjoyed the choked gasp he received when he used his knee to grind between Bakura's legs. Marik had wanted to go all the way with this but he had caught sight of the clock when he had moved up to taste the flesh behind Bakura's ear, he had literally three minutes until he had to present the diversion AKA Bakura to Yugi's friends. Such a shame, it seemed Bakura was just getting into this too if the moans and panting were anything to go by, although that could have had something to do with the tanned hand inside the pale grey jeans. Even _he_ didn't remember doing that.

"Time to go." He whispered.

"Wha-?"

He laughed softly as he pulled the thief into a standing position, glad his actions had the effect he was aiming for as Bakura's legs seemed to give out.

"You're a bastard." Bakura panted, struggling to regain sense in his lust filled mind.

"I know. But hey, at least you look the part now. You _look _like you've been attacked."

"Some people call that rape."

"Not quite, I didn't get that far."

"Don't I know it."

"I'll make it up to you."

"You had better." They stopped at the mouth of an alley way and Marik peeked around the corner for a few seconds before turning back to Bakura.

"Here come Yugi's friends. Remember," Marik's hand grabbed him roughly through his jeans, "you've been attacked." Bakura moaned and his legs went weak again. "Perfect." Marik laughed before grabbing his round the waist and leading him out into the street towards some people he vaguely recognised.

Especially the one with the annoying accent...

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It doesn't really end well I know, but I've been stuck on that for ages.


End file.
